TWIN FLAMES PART 11

≪ masterlist ≫

SOCIAL MEDIA AU, 18+ MDNI

warnings: swearing, drug deals, mentions of coke, addiction

summary: You and Rafe were the couple that no one saw coming. The kook king and the pogue princess falling in love was a shock to the whole island. The pogues questioned your relationship, the kooks despised it, and Ward took extreme measures to tear you two apart every chance he got. It was only a matter of time before the pressure caused the relationship to break. The constant arguing, the yelling, it all became too much. Rafe turned to drugs and you isolated yourself from everyone until there was too much damage to repair. But life has a funny way of bringing two souls back together. In this instance, in the form of a three year old little boy.

Notes: very curious to see how everyone reacts to their “first” interaction. they’ve known of each other at this point and maybe had some words throughout the years but this is their first interaction that starts their whole relationship!

taglist: @yktayy9669 @massivepenguinfart @maybankslover @defnotayonna @daddyrafeslittleslut @a-lovers-card @inthelibrarybtw @scarlettoceaneyes @anacamofficial @bbyg4rl @smokahontas-113 @rafeysbabydoll @rafesbabygirlx @frankoceanluvr11 @flvredcas @voidangxls @ivy-34 @yolgart @starsmoonn @hannieskzzz @tqd4455 @jjasmiineee @congratsloserr @pr3tty-pink @lili-swagalicious @papercranesandinkstains @jamesbeaufortismylife @stoned-writer @kathryn-maraudersversion @st8rkey @justdamnpeachy @ggraycelynn @luvelola @icaqttt @rafe-cameronswife @pogueprincesa @mrsdrewstarkeyy @countryclubwhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @lerclec @drewsswifeyy @bee-43 @akobx @trevorsturniolo @mariamadison6-blog @larema121 @stelleduarte @klarxtr @ietss @todorokiskitten

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R EV I O U S | N E X T (soon) ->

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language, overthinking, sexual jokes/teasing, alcohol/drug mention, rafe being pushy/frustrated/unable to communicate his thoughts properly, tense back-and-forth bc of a verbal dispute

✿ S Y N O P S Y S ✿ it's the last year of high school and you were paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if you weren't awkward as hell and well ... if there weren't your big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron was intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and your mind? that shit was even more tangled. but you hadn't spent all these years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through your fingers ... right?

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 3.9k+

✿ A / N ✿ i had sm fun writing this and i hope you guys will enjoy it as well hihihi. plus i'm always feeling excited with how the chapter ends bc i make shit up as i go LMAO. anyway, hope you will enjoy this as much as i did <33

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"You want some?" Rafe asked casually, not bothering to look up as he sliced a banana.

You were sitting on a mahogany stool at the spacious kitchen counter, hands clutching your bag on your lap while Rafe prepared his food across from you.

Judging by the ingredients, you assumed it was his post-workout meal—Greek yogurt (obviously the low-fat kind), oats, chia seeds, chopped fruit, and a hefty scoop of protein powder he had mixed in at the start.

Honestly, it looked pretty good, but you had already eaten dinner with your parents back at home. Plus, after the conversation you’d had just a few minutes ago, your appetite was pretty much nonexistent.

For the second time that day, you had launched into a long-winded monologue. Only this time, instead of a confession, you'd been expressing your gratitude for his nonchalance.

And his response? Mhm, of course, he had done exactly what you'd just acknowledged in your little speech—smoothly deflected and shifted the dynamic right back in his favor.

Ugh, now he probably actually thinks that was some weird attempt at flirting. WHY AM I LIKE THIS?

But no, today you had decided not to spiral over stuff. And honestly, you'd been doing okay so far—until you'd opened your own damn mouth again.

So, trying to push down the wave of secondhand embarrassment, you forced a polite smile and shook your head. "Oh, no thanks, I already ate at home."

Rafe finally looked up, eyebrows raised as he met your eyes. "You actually not hungry, or is this just some polite etiquette bullshit?"

This guy and his directness…

"No, I really don't want anything," you replied awkwardly, glancing at his bowl for a split second. "But it looks good."

"So you do want some?"

You frowned. "No."

Rafe let out a short, amused breath before turning back to the cutting board. "Aight."

Lifting the board, he slid the banana slices into his bowl. And the way his arms flexed slightly as he did? Um… yeah. Something about the way he was just making his own food, casually slicing fruit—WHY WAS THAT WEIRDLY ATTRACTIVE?

You honestly had no idea where to look despite his arms and hands—help. Just sitting here watching him felt so weird anyway, you felt like some kind of creep.

And the silence creeping in again? He didn’t seem to care, but for you, it created an uncomfortable tension.

Okay, say something. Anything.

"My mom wanted me to say hi to Ward," you said, and since you could already feel the confusion creeping onto his face, you quickly added with an awkward smile, "Because of the Grady-White. She hopes he's happy with his decision."

Rafe held your gaze for a moment, his expression neutral, before turning back to his food. "Yeah, I guess. He's been traveling a lot for work lately—probably hasn’t even had time to take it out properly."

O-kay. Something about the way he said that—kinda defensive like his dad was some untouchable figure or something—made you pause. You weren’t sure what to make of it, especially since just yesterday, he’d snapped at you for bringing up Ward’s whole former Pogue background.

And then, just as quickly, you felt bad for judging him. Losing his mom couldn’t have been easy—of course, he clung to his dad. That was just human.

You nodded. "Oh, yeah, I get that. My mom barely has time for herself either, she’s always running from one meeting to the next."

Shit, shit—wrong direction. Talking about your mom when his was, well… not around anymore? Yeah, not the best move.

Fuck. And sure enough, something in that must have struck a nerve—a barely visible crease on his forehead—but he just shrugged and pulled a spoon from a drawer. "That’s just part of the deal if you want to be successful."

...

You could tolerate the fact that he was a gym bro—that was honestly still kind of hot. Even the whole kissing-his-dad’s-ass thing, you could somewhat understand. But a potential finance bro/hustler/money-obsessed whatever?

Yeah. That actually gave you the ick.

Whatever, whatever. Nobody's perfect, right? Hahahahaha.

"Yeah, I guess," you said, your tone coming out drier than intended.

Rafe smirked. "What? You don’t agree?"

Your cheeks warmed. Of course, you didn’t, but getting into that debate right now? You weren’t in the mood to annoy him again—especially not in this setting.

You fidgeted with the strap of your bag on your lap. "I just think it’s important to have enough time to take breaks and enjoy life too, that’s all."

Rafe let his spoon sink into his yogurt and huffed a small laugh—amused or condescending, you couldn’t quite tell. "With that mindset, you should probably look for a sugar daddy."

Again, you weren’t sure if he was joking or actually judging you.

"Shouldn’t be too hard to find one around here," you shot back, allowing yourself a smirk.

Rafe’s mouth tugged downward like he was trying to hold back a laugh. “You sure that message for my dad actually came from your mom?”

What was he—OH FUCK.

This asshole.

And yeah, of course, your face turned red, but more than that, a half-shocked, half-amused chuckle escaped you. "That's insane."

“Is it?” Rafe’s smirk deepened, and his tone? Oh, he knew he was being a little shit.

You shook your head, brows furrowed, an incredulous smile on your lips. “No, you’re right. I’m actually just here to become your stepmother.”

“Shit, no thanks,” Rafe scoffed, amused. “One vulture in the family is enough.”

Wow. Rafe really had some complicated relationships with his relatives.

He probably had his reasons, you figured, so you just nodded. "Guess I came here for nothing then."

That, apparently, was enough to get a real chuckle out of him. He shrugged, that smug little grin still on his face. “A real gold digger would already be investing in the next generation of rich men, just saying”

DUUUUDE.

Normally, a comment like that—probably his idea of being slick—would have turned you into a human tomato. But for some reason, his bullshit was so ridiculous, so absurdly over-the-top, that his almost-arrogant delivery just made you laugh.

And that? That pulled a real smile onto Rafe’s lips and poor guy didn’t even realize why.

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You slipped your phone back into your bag just as Rafe returned with an A3 notepad and a purple pencil case.

He placed both in front of you on the dining table. "Wheezie’s desk is covered in a bunch of crap. This was the only stuff that looked remotely useful."

You had brought your iPad with you but you figured sketching and planning on big sheets of traditional paper made more sense, especially since the final product wouldn’t be digital anyway. It also made the whole idea feel more tangible.

Rafe had thrown in a comment about how it didn’t really matter as long as the "shit got drawn somehow," but he still went upstairs to get you what you asked for.

"This should work, thanks," you said, pulling the notepad closer—only to quickly realize it wasn’t just any notepad. It was Wheezie’s personal sketchbook.

You shook your head and met Rafe’s gaze as he dropped into the chair next to you. "This is her sketchbook."

"I can see that," Rafe noted, obviously.

"We can’t use this."

Rafe raised an amused brow, like you were joking. "Of course, we can."

You frowned. "She’s got personal stuff in here. You don’t just take someone’s sketchbook."

"Then just skip over those pages."

Why wasn’t he getting it? "That’s… no. Can you just grab a different one?"

That’s when it clicked for Rafe that you were actually serious, and now he was the one frowning in confusion. "Why? Paper is paper. Who cares?"

Bruh. "That’s not the point. I wouldn’t want someone randomly flipping through my sketchbook either. It’s… it’s just disrespectful."

Rafe scoffed like you were being ridiculous and rubbed his hand over his chin, annoyed. "Wheezie doesn’t give a shit."

Okay, was he just refusing to get it, or did he genuinely not understand what you meant? Or… did he just want to win the argument?

"I do," you shot back, a queasy feeling settling in your stomach as his blue eyes locked onto you with sharp intensity. If you were a guy, he probably would’ve decked you based on that look alone.

For a moment, he just stared at you, and you thought he was about to double down. But to your surprise, he let out an amused breath and pushed himself up. "Shiiit, right. You almost killed me yesterday when I touched your iPad."

Relieved that he had actually given in—despite the lingering warmth on your cheeks from remembering that embarrassing moment—you allowed yourself a resigned smile. "I told you, I thought you were going through my art gallery."

Rafe gripped the back of the chair, raising his brows smugly. "Although… on second thought, it kinda looked like you were trying to find an excuse to get close to me."

NO NO NO NO NO, WAS HE SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!

Heat rushed to your face at full intensity as the scene replayed in your head. You had freaked out so badly that you’d practically thrown yourself at Rafe on Kelce’s couch, desperately trying to yank your iPad out of his hands—only to realize he had just been looking at your project notes. And, because you had the absolute worst luck, your hand had accidentally brushed against his thigh as you’d awkwardly pulled away.

And, up until now, he hadn't said a word about it. So WHAT THE HELL WAS THIS?!

Sure, he was probably just messing with you again, clearly enjoying the reaction he could get out of you, but oh god, this was so... WHY.

"No, that—oh my god, no… NO." You had no idea how to respond. "Just, no."

Rafe held your gaze, letting out an amused scoff. "Shit, okay." He grabbed Wheezie’s sketchbook, and—unless you were imagining things—you could almost hear the slightest hint of something off in his joking tone. “One ‘no’ would’ve been enough."

And with that, he turned away to get another sketchpad.

You ran both hands down your face, wishing you could just disappear. Why was every conversation, every interaction with Rafe so… intense?

On top of that, you never really knew how he’d respond—what topic shift, what comment, fuck no, what mood he’d hit you with next. It was deeply unsettling and, for someone like you, ridiculously hard to adjust to.

And even though, somehow, you felt comfortable around him, at the same time, you always felt so awkward—like you were walking a fine line. The thought that he might notice or figure out that you had a crush on him? UGGGHHH.

At this point, you were pretty sure he knew. Because today…it felt like he was steering the conversation toward—toward what exactly? It just felt different.

Fuck. And now you’d probably gone and pissed him off too.

And out of sheer fear of falling back into that painfully tense situation like yesterday at Kelce’s, you felt the urgent need to fix your reaction.

Rafe tossed a plain notebook onto the table as he came back. "This shitty-ass pad meet your royal standards, princess?"

And his tone? Definitely irritated. But about what exactly?

Uncertain, you glanced up at him, nervously playing with your fingers. Just ask. Communication is key, right? HAHAHAH.

"Did I say something wrong?", you carefully asked.

Rafe made a face, leaning a hand against the chair beside you. ABORT. ABORT. ABORT. "Like what?"

"I don’t know…" Fuck. Of course, someone like him wouldn’t take well to being called out. "The sketchbook thing. I didn’t mean to make you mad."

"Mad?" Rafe pushed off the chair, letting out a short, amused chuckle, like what you said was completely ridiculous. He tapped a finger against his temple. "Your head tell you that?"

"No!" You furrowed your brows, painfully aware that, yes, it absolutely had. "I just… you seemed pissed."

Rafe nodded. "Yeah. Pissed. Not mad." A lopsided smirk pulled at his lips. "There’s a pretty big difference, you know."

"I know," you shot back, your brows still drawn together. "I wasn’t even trying to— I just meant—"

You cut yourself off when Rafe ran a hand down his face. "Okay, fuck, stop that."

You shook your head in irritation, caught off guard by his tone.

He motioned to his temples with both hands. "That. The crazy-ass shit constantly running through your head." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I swear to God, it’s pissing me off—no clue how you live like that. If I wasted my time overthinking every little thing the way you do? Jesus."

His jaw tensed for a second before he flicked his fingers toward you. "Whatever it is, just say it. No overanalyzing, no long-ass justifications." His voice dropped lower, almost mocking. "Or is this some ‘please let me be easy to deal with’ pick-me type bullshit? ‘Cause if that’s the case—" he pulled back slightly, raising his brows— "I’m so fucking out."

...

...

That…

That response completely shut your brain down, because holy shit.

The way he’d just called you out like that, the direct confrontation—It was too much. You had no idea how to react.

And your body? Fuck, your throat was tight, your heart slammed against your ribs, and your palms were so clammy it was almost overstimulating.

But what nearly sent you over the edge was the way he was looking at you. Blue eyes sharp, jaw clenched, that fucking intensity in his gaze that was almost ... intimidating.

It took everything in you to hold back tears.

But something about the way he’d phrased it—Like you hadn’t just told him this exact morning, in full vulnerability, that overthinking was a huge problem for you. Like you hadn’t literally thanked him earlier for not making a big deal out of it.

Oh, that pissed you the fuck off.

"I'm not a fucking pick-me girl," you snapped, sharper than even you expected. "Like—what the fuck? You think I overanalyze shit or question things on purpose?" Your brows pulled together in frustration. "Just this morning I tried explaining exactly that, so what the fuck?"

Now it was your turn to let out a breath of disbelief, a wry smile tugging at your lips. "And maybe I wouldn’t have to give ‘long-ass justifications’ if I wasn’t constantly put in situations where I felt like I needed to."

Oh no. You weren’t done.

"And yeah, maybe I should think less but you should definitely think a whole lot more—then maybe you'd have realized that I was just trying to address the obvious tension you had going on. I just … I wanted to make it easier for both of us to work on this project without weird vibes. Not because I’m desperate for you to like me or some shit."

OH MY HOLY FUCKING SHIT. Did I really just say that? OH MY GOD.

Your heart wasn’t just pounding anymore—it was slamming against your ribs like thunderous shockwaves. Because fuck, no one had pissed you off enough to actually snap like that in a long time.

For a moment, Rafe didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, jaw slightly tense, that one crease forming between his brows—the same one that always appeared when he couldn’t quite figure out how to react to a situation that overwhelmed him.

Then, finally, he let out a dry chuckle, tapping his fingers against his temples in that signature gesture of his. "See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about." He exhaled, shaking his head. "I was literally just trying to fucking help you, and in your head, you turned it into something completely different."

You blinked, taken aback. “Help me?” A disbelieving, irritated smile appeared on your face. “You literally just told me I piss you off and that I’m crazy in the head.”

“Jesus Christ.” Rafe ran a hand through his hair, briefly turning away as if trying to collect himself, then met your eyes again with renewed intensity. “You’re so fucking complicated. The ‘Did I say something wrong?’ shit just now? That…” He shook his head, seemingly confused and frustrated. “Shit, I thought you didn’t want me to make a big deal out of things.”

You just stared at him, completely overwhelmed because—HUH????

Your brows furrowed as you asked, incredulously, “So… you thought the best way to respond to me asking if you were mad was to … act even more irritated?”

“Fuck, I was trying to save you from another weird-ass monologue situation, okay?” Rafe shot back, his voice still dense with frustration, but something in his tone had shifted. He pulled out the chair beside you and sat down, body angled toward you, and his hands? Bro was in full gesture-mode. “You’re always so fucking tense. What do you think it’s like for me, huh? I feel like I’m walking through a fucking minefield or some shit.”

That… You knew you should still be mad because his reaction had been totally over the top considering you had just wanted to clear the air for both of you. But somehow… the frustration in his voice, that strained desperation—

It felt like he wanted you to understand but didn’t know how to communicate it.

Maybe you weren’t so different after all.

And the fact that he even thought about pulling you out of an uncomfortable situation—even if he did it in the weirdest fucking way...

Your expression softened, a hint of amusement in your voice. “I don’t need to be handled like I’m made of glass.”

Rafe leaned back slightly, his own tension easing just a bit. “It sure as fuck seems like you do.”

“I don’t, and I don’t want to be.” You paused, watching his expression. “The way you are… your bluntness… I don’t mind it.”

Ohhh shit, you needed to be careful not to slip into another confession speech because THAT kind of confession would actually kill you.

Especially because you were trying your hardest to suppress the irritation about your current state. You almost felt … normal. Because what the fuck, where were the red cheeks, the overwhelming urge to sink into the floor from sheer humiliation?

“Yeah, sure.” Rafe scoffed in disbelief, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. His other hand gestured toward you as he spoke, his tone dry. “Then why the fuck do you always react so… weird? Like, seriously—” He motioned toward himself, a slightly irritated smile on his face. “Are you scared of me or some shit?”

That pulled an incredulous laugh out of you. Shaking your head, you smiled amused. “What? No! Oh my God. It’s just…"

The fact that he still hadn’t realized your awkwardness and blushing around him were caused by your massive crush on him—God, that was actually a relief. A huge, stupid weight lifted off your shoulders.

“I just need a little time to get used to new people, that’s all.”

Rafe looked at you like he was trying to connect the dots in his head, piecing you together. He scratched his chin, tilting his head slightly. “So… you still feeling too uncomfortable or what?”

It was kind of cute that he was actually trying to understand your brain. Even if it seemed to cost him every ounce of willpower and patience he had.

The faintest blush crept onto your cheeks. “No, I mean… not because of you, at least.”

It’s because I’ve had a crush on you for seven years, and now I’ve been thrown into this completely overwhelming situation by my fucking art teacher, and I’m terrified of making a fool of myself. Which, clearly, I already am.

But instead, all you said was, “That’s something I need to work on myself.”

Rafe studied you for a second, still looking puzzled, then shook his head. “Okay, fuck this, that’s enough.” But the remaining bite in his voice didn’t seem to be directed at you anymore. “Friday night, yeah?—Kelce is throwing some party at his place with the shittiest people from our grade. You’re coming along, downing a line of shots or snorting a line of coke—I don’t give a shit—but you’re turning your fucking brain off for once.”

He raised his eyebrows, his next words carrying a firm urgency. “And later, you’re gonna let someone fuck all that tension, overthinking bullshit, whatever-the-fuck, right out of your brain.”

YO WHAT THE FUCK??? EXCUSE ME???

Your expression flickered between disbelief, amusement, and irritation, and since it couldn’t decide on one, you just stared at Rafe blankly.

Because you had no fucking clue if he was joking or being serious—because holy fucking shit if he was serious then??? WHAT.

Of course, you’d been to parties before but the host was usually someone Cara was cool with but Kelce’s party???

Rafe shrugged. “Bring a friend, come alone, I don't care, but shit’s not gonna change if you don’t do something about it.”

OH SURE, BECAUSE IT’S JUST THAT EASY, RIGHT?

“That’s insane,” you finally said, your voice edged with dry amusement. “How… I mean, what? How is that supposed to help me?”

“Shit, it would help me,” Rafe scoffed, clearly entertained. “Whatever your problem is—whether it’s all in your head or, shit, I don’t know, maybe you just need to get properly laid—but whatever it is, it’s pressure. And once that’s gone—” He pulled his lips into a half-smirk, lifting his shoulders with complete nonchalance. "All the other shit falls into place. And I can enjoy the remaining project sessions in peace, without feeling the nervousness radiating off of you.”

Oh my God. You definitely had issues, but Rafe? This guy had no idea how to express emotions or sympathy like a normal person. Instead of saying, I want to help you, he said… whatever the fuck this was supposed to be.

You frowned. “Yeah, no thanks. I’m not into drugs or hookup culture. And besides, it’s rude to show up uninvited to a party.”

“No one wants to see Kelce’s shitty face either, but he still crashes every party,” Rafe shot back before leaning back, now an irritated look on his face. “And I literally just invited you.”

THAT. You could practically hear your brain say: Maximum processing capacity reached. System shutting down.

“Yeah, I mean, but—”

“For fuck’s sake, just say yes.”

Fuck, everything in you wanted to understand—no, to rationalize—what the hell was going on in Rafe's head and—AHHHHHH.

“Okay,” you blurted out before your brain had the chance to overanalyze it.

For a split second, surprise flashed across Rafe’s face before it melted into a satisfied smirk. “Shit, I hope you’re aware I’m the best thing that’s happened to you this week.”

Or the worst, you thought, already tasting the regret on your tongue. Depending on how it'll end.

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✿ A / N ✿ i wasn't sure if it was the right timing for a dispute like this. i was scared it would be 'too soon' or idk i feared it would feel forced plot-like for rafe to call her out like this but then i was like s1!rafe is a little shit and he def doesn't have the patience for people that, in his opinion, need constant reassurance. so hahaha pls tell me it was the right decision 😭😭

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K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R EV I O U S | N E X T (soon) ->

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riding the edge (smau): extra

R.C x Reader

Synopsis: Rafe Cameron is a "bad boy" motorcycle creator known for his thrilling rides and shameless thirst traps, which attract a massive following. Y/N is a thoughtful and passionate Bookstagram influencer who thrives on sharing deep literary insights and reviewing the top trending books.

texts between mama!reader and dada!rafe on his first day back at work since Jojo was born…

{based on this fic} {full au}

a/n: gonna write some blurbs and answer some recs for this little fam, but these pics were so cute I could resist a little text post 🥹 I love dem sm

and i thought i was so smart

baby jojo gets the hang of 'gentle' easily, but mama!reader and dada!rafe need a little more practice...

cw: mostly fluff with a little kissin' and suggestive ending <3

{follow up to this blurb} {part of this au}

After that first night in the hospital, Rafe read every book, followed every expert on social media, learned everything he could about parenting to ensure he never felt so helpless around his daughter as he had when you first placed her in his arms.

Eventually, he started holding her like a natural and less like she was a bomb that could detonate at any moment. He was so good with her that you couldn’t even tell he was in a constant state of worry that he’d somehow mess it all up. 

The only thing he couldn't do was tell his baby girl 'no.'

Normally, Rafe was up early with you and Jo, but today was his only day off work all week, and you knew he needed the extra few hours of sleep. You smiled down at him as you willed Josie to stay quiet, tiptoeing from the bedroom and hoping she’d allow you both a peaceful morning so Rafe could rest.

But she had different plans.

“Ouchie, Jojo! That hurts mama!”

You pulled her little fist gently from the side of your head. She was perched on your lap as you tried to rest on the couch. She’d barely slept last night and was in a grabbing phase, latching her little hands onto anything she could find - your hair, your clothes, dishes off the table, books off the shelf - nothing and no one was safe.

Except for her dad, his hair was buzzed. Though recently, Josie had taken to patting him on the head like one would a puppy, laughing at the way his shaved hair would tickle her palm. Her little slaps stung a little, but Rafe just watched her with adoring eyes while she smacked his scalp like a bongo. He was so patient with her, and you were more in love with him than ever. You tried to remind him that he needed to tell her no sometimes, but you had a feeling when you weren't around he let her get away with murder.

Life was good - as close to perfect as it could get - but this morning, you were so exhausted you felt like crying. As usual, Josie had been clinging to you since the second she woke up, starting to cry if you even thought about putting her down. But when her dada slid sleepily into the room, she lit up, and so did you.

“Hi Jojo,” he leaned over the back of the couch to place a kiss on her squishy cheeks, smooching her with a silly sound that made her giggle. Proudly, he dropped the same smooch to your cheek, earning another squeaky laugh from Jo. “Hi to you too, mama. My girls having fun?”

“Uh-huh, big fun.” You nodded sarcastically. “Fun pulling mama’s hair, fun scratching mama’s face.” You pinched Josie’s cheeks playfully and added, “fun biting mama’s nipples.”

Rafe’s laugh was identical to his daughter’s, forcing a smile from you, though you were almost too tired to enjoy their delight.

“It’s not funny!” You protested with a chuckle. “It hurts!”

“That’s not what you say when I do it,” Rafe teased.

“Rafe!” You reached up to pinch his arm, making him wince. Josie once again found the whole thing entirely entertaining, never happier than when she has both her parents close.

In her excitement, she reached out and grabbed your necklace, the one with the “R” and “J” pendants Rafe had gotten you for your last birthday. The gold chain burned where it dug into your skin from the force of her yank.

You winced and bit your bottom lip, trying to keep from snapping at your daughter. She was too little to understand she was hurting you, and it wasn’t her fault you were feeling so run down. But Rafe saw the bags under your eyes, and the way Josie’s pull on your necklace was hurting you.

“Gentle, Jojo,” he said calmly, leaning down to carefully pull her hand off the chain. “Remember gentle?”

She blinked her big blue eyes at him, as if she was trying to translate his words into her own little baby language.

“Gentle, like this…” Rafe demonstrated the word, softly brushing his hand on your arm to show her. “See? Be gentle to mama.”

Josie watched him, her little brow furrowed in focus as her eyes followed his movement. Tentatively, she reached out and copied him, ghosting her palm over your arm.

“Good job baby!” You beamed at her at the same time as Rafe cheered, “That’s right Jojo!”

Josie smiled ear to ear, so happy even though she barely understood what you were celebrating. She was so happy, she kept practicing her new little trick, sitting between you and Rafe on the couch, softly rubbing your arms until you clapped and cheered for her like she loved.

---❤︎---

After breakfast and her morning nap, Rafe offered to distract Jojo for a bit so you could shower and rest. You reentered the living room forty five minutes later feeling refreshed and so grateful for your boyfriend. He was such a good dad and partner, you knew he’d do anything for you, and for Jojo.

Including what he was doing now - sitting on the floor watching Bluey while Jojo sat on the couch behind him, happily slapping away at his shaved head. Rafe flinched with every smack of her little hands against his scalp, but he didn’t stop her. You smiled at the sight, knowing he’d rather have bruises all over his head than have to tell his baby girl “no.” 

“Rafeee?” you called from the other side of the room.

“Yeah baby?” He replied without pulling his eyes from the TV, fully invested in the show.

“If you let her hit you, she’s gonna wanna hit everyone,” you reminded him.

At that, he turned his head enough to meet your eyes, but not enough to stop Jojo’s drum solo. 

“But it barely hurts,” he reasoned with a guilty little grin. “And it makes her so happy!”

You crossed your arms, lips screwing up as you tried not to smile, the sight in front of you so cute you almost let it slide. But you were serious about not being the only parent in this house to follow through on discipline.

“If she gets to hit you, then she won’t understand why she’s not allowed to hit me."

“You’re right,” Rafe sighed, turning around and kneeling in front of the couch until he was eye to eye with Josie.

“No hitting dada, Jojo,” he told her, his serious tone cracking as she started giggling, reaching up to try and hit the top of his head again, clearly thinking it was all part of the game.

Rafe wrapped his fingers around her hand gently, unable to hide his smile, though he was trying. She wriggled her hand free and slapped him again, this time grazing his cheek with more force, leaving behind a small red mark.

Rafe pretended to gasp so she'd see she hurt him, getting her attention this time.

“Gentle, Jo! Remember gentle?” 

Jojo’s bottom lip quivered, surprised and upset at the unusual tinge of scolding in her dad’s voice.

You stood behind Rafe, demonstrating ‘gentle’ on him the way he had on you earlier.

“Gentle,” you reminded her as you smoothed your palm over Rafe’s prickly hair. “Be gentle to dada.”

Jojo reached out again and copied you, softly rubbing Rafe’s head like you were.

“Good!” You clapped.

“That’s my smart girl!” Rafe praised her, dropping a smoochy kiss on her cheek until she giggled again.

Josie looked at you with expectant eyes, excited to be playing her favorite game again. You repeated “gentle” as you rubbed your hand over Rafe’s cheek, then his neck, and across his shoulders. You were both focused on teaching your daughter, but you didn’t miss the way his skin warmed and goosebumps rose under your touch, tucking the twinge of excitement in your stomach away for later.

---❤︎---

Once Jojo was soundly asleep, you finally slipped into you and Rafe’s shared bedroom, closing the door carefully so the sound wouldn’t carry down the hall.

“I did it!” You whisper cheered. Rafe looked up from where he was leaning against the headboard, tossing his phone to the side at your arrival. “I had to read ‘Llama Llama’ seven times, but I did it.”

“That’s two less times than I had to read it last night,” he laughed, standing from the bed and tiptoeing across the wood floor to get to you. “Proud of you baby.”

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he neared you.

Rafe’s hands found your waist, leaning down to meet your lips with his. 

“Mmmm,” you sighed happily into the kiss, swaying in his arms.

His hands smoothed over your lower back, thumbs tucking under the hem of your shirt to rub loving circles against your skin. Your mouth parted to allow him to kiss you deeper as he spinned you both around, walking you back toward the bed.

“Guess we should go to sleep now, too?” You played through a mischievous grin.

“Not tired,” Rafe shrugged before lifting you up swiftly and tossing you back onto the mattress.

You yelped as you landed hard, the mattress springs squeaking under you. Rafe smiled down at you, grabbing you by the ankles and yanking you toward the edge of the bed.

You faked a sharp gasp, tilting your head with mocking stern face, “Gentle, Rafe! Remember gentle?”

Rafe chuckled at the call back from earlier, nodding as he laid his body over yours.

“Yeah? Is that really what you want?” He whispered against your lips.

“No,” you smiled, pulling him closer. “Not at all.”

CRIMINAL LOVE PART 16

♥︎ masterlist ♥︎

SOCIAL MEDIA AU, 18+ MDNI

warnings: swearing, mentions of deceased parent, mentions of murder, talks of drugging someone

summary: With your last semester of grad school breezing by, you felt like you could sleep through the next couple of months and still graduate at the top of your class. You only had to get through 3 more months until you walked across the stage and rightfully earned your Master in Criminal Justice degree. All your hard work would finally be paid off. Until your professor hits you with one last assignment that will make you question everything. The assignment? Prisoner Penpals from the State of North Carolina Correctional Facility. Your penpal? Rafe Cameron. His sentence? Life without parole. His crime? First degree murder.

Notes: what are we thinking now? 👀

taglist: @marleymarleymarleymarley @whytheylosttheirminds @athenalovesgoodies @zaynovak @ilovefiction4lmen @honeyluvsatj @judesgfirl @murdockcastleslut @potatodirectioner @fruitcakerafe @saveahorserideaspacecowboy @femasochist @akobx @yesshewrites1 @rafe-cameronswife @artdonaldsonlover @hannaa20002000 @sirenasmodeus @starsmoonn @gracelouiseoneill @cl4uus @harrys-housewife @papercranesandinkstains @bee-43 @chenslucy @moustacherryismyhusband @maybanksgirl69 @eddsthemunson @cherryhoneybabe @woodz-zz @emelia07 @freyawhitexxx1 @ursogorgeous13 @laniirackssss @sereneera @imsiriuslyreal @only9ngel @st8rkey @justdamnpeachy @okay1723 @anacamofficial @rafeyzbaby @kathryn-maraudersversion @vanessa-rafesgirl @acidfeens @drewwhor @stylestarkey @rafes4 @moonywhisp3rs @different-tale-student

TWIN FLAMES PART 10

≪ masterlist ≫

SOCIAL MEDIA AU, 18+ MDNI

warnings: swearing, mentions of drowning

summary: You and Rafe were the couple that no one saw coming. The kook king and the pogue princess falling in love was a shock to the whole island. The pogues questioned your relationship, the kooks despised it, and Ward took extreme measures to tear you two apart every chance he got. It was only a matter of time before the pressure caused the relationship to break. The constant arguing, the yelling, it all became too much. Rafe turned to drugs and you isolated yourself from everyone until there was too much damage to repair. But life has a funny way of bringing two souls back together. In this instance, in the form of a three year old little boy.

Notes: part 11 will be our first flashback and it’ll be the first time they officially “meet/interact” since everyone on the island knows who rafe is. very excited for everyone to get the backstory 💕

taglist: @yktayy9669 @massivepenguinfart @maybankslover @defnotayonna @daddyrafeslittleslut @a-lovers-card @inthelibrarybtw @scarlettoceaneyes @anacamofficial @bbyg4rl @smokahontas-113 @rafeysbabydoll @rafesbabygirlx @frankoceanluvr11 @flvredcas @voidangxls @ivy-34 @yolgart @starsmoonn @hannieskzzz @tqd4455 @jjasmiineee @congratsloserr @pr3tty-pink @lili-swagalicious @papercranesandinkstains @jamesbeaufortismylife @stoned-writer @kathryn-maraudersversion @st8rkey @justdamnpeachy @ggraycelynn @luvelola @icaqttt @rafe-cameronswife @pogueprincesa @mrsdrewstarkeyy @countryclubwhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @lerclec @drewsswifeyy @bee-43 @akobx @trevorsturniolo @mariamadison6-blog @larema121 @stelleduarte @klarxtr @ietss @todorokiskitten

DRIVE ME CRAZY

part four . part five . part six . masterlist .

sarah was already halfway down the steps, sunglasses on, rambling about who was taking aux for the drive. “wait,” y/n called out, digging through her tote bag, “i left my sweatshirt upstairs. gimme a sec.”

she turned on her heel and jogged back into the cameron house, the halls were quiet as she turned the corner down the hallway. and walked straight into him.

her heart jolted. rafe’s hands came up instantly, steadying her by the arms like it was muscle memory. he looked just as stunned as she felt, though not enough to let go.

“you good?” he asked, voice low, almost careful.

she pulled back like his touch stung. “you always lurking around corners now or is this a me-specific hobby?” his mouth twitched like he wanted to smirk, but didn’t quite get there. “didn’t know you were still here.”

“clearly.” she folded her arms across her chest. “you’re too busy dropping thirst comments like we’re back in 2014. ‘gorgeous’? really?” rafe shrugged, his eyes scanning her face as he leaned in closer. “was i wrong?”

“you’ve got some fucking nerve. you’re out here sucking face with whatever girl topper finds in the wild and then you think you can pop into my comments like nothing happened?”

his jaw clenched at that. something in his face hardened. “you’re one to talk,” he snapped. “you and jj playing soft launch on instagram. what, he your new rebound?”

y/n blinked. stunned. “soft launch? when did i ever say i was with jj? i said i was happy in his company, that doesn't mean he's my fucking boyfriend, rafe.”

rafe's expression faltered. the cockiness, the jealousy, all of it dropped like dead weight from his face.

“…you’re not?” he asked, quieter now. he was so frustrated, it shouldn't even matter, they weren't supposed to be friends, let alone anything more.

she stared at him. “no, rafe. i’m not.” he looked dumb. like genuinely dumb. and kind of heartbroken too, which only pissed her off more.

“you see what you want to see,” she said, her accent was always thicker when she was angry. “you always have.”

she snatched the sweatshirt off the banister, turned on her heel, and stormed toward the stairs.

taglist!!: @princesspeaxhh , @cokewithcameron , @lolasangelz , @a-sunflower-in-bloom , @rafecameronswhoorehope , @stoned-writer , @pogueprincesa @countryclubwhore @pillowprincess4him double post because i did not post yesterday oops!!

Dress

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, implied smut, secret relationship, romantic tension

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

Paws and Promises

pairing: drew starkey x secret fiancee!reader

warnings: fluff, established relationship, soft domestic vibes, excessive cuteness

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

The morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains of their Charleston kitchen, warm and golden, just like everything had felt since the move. It was quiet except for the soft hum of the coffee machine and the occasional creak of the wooden floor beneath Drew’s bare feet.

He handed Y/N her favorite mug, filled almost to the brim, just the way she liked it.

“Okay,” he said, voice still low and scratchy from sleep. “So… we officially own this house.”

Y/N turned from where she was scribbling in her planner at the kitchen island, her lips curling into a smile. “You make it sound like we just picked up groceries.”

“I mean, we did sign a mountain of papers and give away our souls, but yeah,” he said, sliding into the stool next to hers. “No big deal.”

She laughed, nudging his knee with hers under the counter. “I’m just excited we don’t have to sign anything else. It’s ours. For real.”

Drew smiled at her, soft and slow. “It already felt like home with you in it.”

She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Cheesy.”

“True,” he countered.

They sat in the quiet for a moment, sipping coffee and watching the soft light spill across their new countertops. Their moving boxes were half-unpacked in the next room, and the faint scent of fresh paint still lingered from the weekend project Drew had insisted on finishing before he had to be back on set.

Y/N glanced at him over the rim of her mug. “So, I was thinking…”

Drew raised an eyebrow. “That’s usually dangerous.”

“Rude.” She tried to hide her smile, failing miserably. “You remember what you promised me?”

His expression shifted into something teasing. “If this is about the backyard hammock, I said eventually—”

She groaned and stood and slid into his lap. “No, smartass. I’m talking about this promise.” She pulled out her phone and tapped to show him a screenshot. It was a golden retriever puppy from the shelter’s Instagram page, floppy ears and big brown eyes melting into the camera.

Drew tilted his head. “You bookmarked it?”

“I’ve had a folder of dogs for the last year, don’t act surprised.”

He stared at the photo, then looked up at her. “You wanna go today?”

Y/N blinked. “Wait… really?”

Drew smiled at how her entire face lit up. “We’ve got the house. I’ve got the day off. Let’s go meet him.”

The drive to the shelter was a mix of excited chatter and soft music playing through the speakers. Y/N read the details from the puppy’s post—male, golden retriever, about nine weeks old, and sweet as can be.

“He’s got a little heart-shaped patch on his nose,” she added, showing Drew the zoomed-in photo again.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head—but he was smiling the whole time.

When they arrived, the woman at the front desk greeted them with a warm smile. “You’re here about the golden retriever, right?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded eagerly. “We just bought a house and… well, it felt like time.”

The woman smiled knowingly. “He’s been a favorite around here. Come on—he’s in the back.”

The second they stepped into the room, Drew heard it: the tiny thump-thump of paws against the tile and a soft yip. The puppy was already at the edge of the enclosure, tail wagging like crazy, as if he knew.

“Oh my God,” Y/N whispered, clutching Drew’s arm. “He’s so much cuter in person.”

Drew crouched beside the gate and opened it slowly. The puppy made a beeline for him, stumbling over his own feet before crashing into Drew’s lap with an excited squeak.

“He picked you,” Y/N said softly, dropping down next to them.

The puppy licked Drew’s chin before collapsing dramatically onto his back, inviting belly rubs. Drew laughed, rubbing the soft golden fluff. “I think we’re done looking.”

“Alright,” the shelter employee said with a warm smile, setting the final adoption form on the desk. “Sign right there, and Teddy is officially yours.”

Y/N squeezed Drew’s hand under the table, her grin wide and glowing as she picked up the pen.

“We’re doing it,” she whispered, practically bouncing in her seat.

Drew smiled down at her, watching as she signed her name with a little heart at the end. He leaned in as she passed the pen to him.

“Should I draw a paw print instead of my signature?” he joked.

“Please don’t get us flagged by the shelter,” she laughed.

He signed quickly, and when the employee clapped her hands together and slid them a folder of Teddy’s vet records, Y/N let out a quiet gasp of joy.

“Congratulations!” the woman said. “Teddy’s all yours. We’ll grab his blanket and favorite toy for you.”

Teddy was currently passed out in Drew’s lap, paws twitching like he was already dreaming. Drew looked down at him, gently smoothing a hand over the soft golden fur. “You’re coming home, little dude.”

Y/N was already mentally organizing the next part of the plan. “Okay, we need food, a bed, a crate, toys—oh my god, so many toys—a collar, leash, bowls—”

“Should we just bring the whole shelter with us?” Drew asked dryly.

She shot him a look. “You promised me a dog. That promise included spoiling him.”

The pet store was a sensory overload—colorful squeaky toys, endless aisles of food, and several other people with their own dogs in tow. Y/N was a woman on a mission, pushing the cart like she was on Supermarket Sweep.

Drew followed behind her, holding Teddy (who had been carried in like royalty), one brow arched as he watched her toss item after item into the cart.

“Babe,” he said, lifting a rope toy with a giant giraffe head attached to it, “does he need a jungle-themed tug-of-war set?”

“Yes,” she said without missing a beat. “That’s the cutest one.”

Drew looked into the cart. “He’s got five toys already.”

“He’s a baby, Drew. He’s going to get bored.”

“Baby, you got him the plush lobster, the squeaky donut, a set of tennis balls, and a talking monkey.”

“He likes options!”

Drew tried to keep a straight face but failed. She was too cute when she got like this—eyebrows raised, lips pursed in determination, completely serious about spoiling their new puppy like he was royalty.

She turned to him with a bright pink food bowl that said “Goodest Boy” in glittery letters.

He blinked. “You’re not serious.”

“It matches his vibe.”

“His vibe?”

She held it up next to Teddy’s face. “Tell me he doesn’t look like a goodest boy.”

Teddy yawned in Drew’s arms and let his tongue flop out.

“…Damn it,” Drew muttered. “He kinda does.”

By the time they got to the checkout line, the cart was full. Not just full—overflowing. Y/N had added a fluffy dog bed, two kinds of treats (“He needs to sample!”), grooming supplies, puppy training pads, and a little raincoat that had paw prints on the hood.

“I blacked out a little,” she admitted, biting her lip as she glanced at the total on the screen.

Drew laughed, handing over his card. “It’s fine. We’ll just cancel Netflix and live off peanut butter for a while.”

“I bought peanut butter for Teddy, too,” she added innocently.

He gave her a long look, then glanced down at the puppy curled up in his arms.

Teddy sneezed softly and blinked up at him with those big brown eyes.

“…Okay. He’s worth it.”

“Told you!”

By the time they pulled back into the driveway, the sun was dipping low behind the trees, casting long shadows over the porch. Teddy nestled in the back seat, yawning every few seconds.

Y/N carried him inside, whispering softly as she showed him around. “This is your new home, Teddy. Living room’s over there, kitchen’s full of treats, and that blanket? Yeah, it’s yours now.”

Drew stood by the door, watching them. The sight of Y/N holding the tiny dog, beaming with a mix of wonder and contentment, tugged at something deep in his chest.

“I think you love him more than you love me,” he teased.

She looked up. “It’s a close call.”

Teddy made a soft snuffling sound, curling up on the blanket they laid out for him. Y/N dropped onto the floor beside him, tucking her legs under herself as Drew sat behind her and pulled her into his lap.

“You’re really happy,” he said quietly.

“I really am,” she replied. “This house. This little family. It’s everything I didn’t even know I wanted.”

Drew pressed a kiss to her temple. “Same here.”

They sat there for a while—no cameras, no scripts, no set calls. Just them. Just home.

And Teddy, their golden boy, snoring softly beside them.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

an:

i love them so much 🥲

also i have one draft left and im lowkey out of ideas so if anyone has any plssss send in a request.

DRIVE ME CRAZY

part three . part four . part five . masterlist .

cw: just angsty rafe icl.. mentions of alcohol. also for the purposes of this au, rafe isn't entirely cannon, im just not rly comfy with writing ab drug addiction. anyways.. that said, enjoy!! <3

the sun was starting to dip, casting a golden haze over the porch as y/n stepped out of her car, leash in hand.

y/n wasn’t sure why her hands were clammy. this was routine. pick up the dog. say hey to wheezie. maybe steal a cookie from the fancy jar in the kitchen. that was it.

except today wasn’t just any day. it had been four days since that text. since rafe made that comment about her being passed around by the pogues, like she wasn’t a person with feelings. since she’d told him to fuck off like she meant it, because she did. but now, standing at the cameron door she felt a little empty at the lack of rafe in her life. the bickering was something she’d grown accustomed to. his mere presence was comforting in a weird sort of way.

the door creaked open before she could knock. and it wasn’t sarah or wheezie.

rafe stood there.

he looked like he hadn’t slept. same hoodie he always wore when he was spiraling. hood up, eyes tired. 

y/n swallowed. “is wheezie here?”

“she’s out,” he said, looking up to make eye contact with her.

great. perfect.

nox was bounding around like it was his house (which, technically, it half was), skidding across the floors and disappearing somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

rafe didn’t say anything. just stood there. blocking the door. watching her.

she crossed her arms. “you gonna let me get nox or are you just gonna stare at me like a ghost?”

his jaw tightened. “didn’t know you were coming.”

“well, i didn’t come for you.”

something flickered in his expression, she thought maybe something like hurt, maybe just irritation. he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“so that’s it?” he muttered. “you’re just pretending i don’t exist now?”

y/n blinked. “you’re the one who ghosted me after blowing up on me. don’t act like i’m the one avoiding you.”

“i wasn’t-” he stopped. jaw clenched. “i wasn't saying that about you,”

“oh really? because impling that im a whore felt pretty fucking personal, rafe.”

his head snapped up, eyes locking with hers. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“doesn’t matter. you said it.”

silence again. the kind that rang loud in her ears. rafe stepped back, hand dragging down his face like he hated being seen so vulnerable and messy.

she hated that part of her still wanted to go to him. still wanted to understand why he did it. why he always pushed and pulled like she was something he couldn’t decide whether to want or destroy.

“i should go,” she said, turning toward the door.

“wait.”

his voice was softer this time. not gentle, but less razor-edged.

she didn’t turn.

“i saw the post,” he said quietly. “the one with jj. you looked happy.”

y/n looked over her shoulder. “i was happy.”

he nodded, like it hurt to hear. then, quietly: “i’m not good at this.”

their eyes locked. and for a moment, neither of them moved. just breathing the same air, too many words unsaid between them.

“i’m not yours to ruin,” she said finally. “so if you’re gonna keep acting like this, at least stop pretending you care.”

she opened the door. and left.

fuck.. she forgot nox.

later that night. 

the front door creaked open.

rafe’s eyes snapped open. he didn’t move, just listened. stillness settled around him like a weight, pressing down on the sweat sticking to the back of his neck. the house was dark. too quiet.

then he heard it.

sarah, whispering, her words slurred with intoxication. “shhh, y/n, my shoes are so loud.”

then y/n, quieter, steadier. always steadier.

“that’s because you stomp like a horse. come on, upstairs before you wake up the whole island.”

rafe exhaled through his nose, jaw already tight. of course it was her. of course she was the one carrying sarah home like this wasn’t the hundredth time she’d done it.

even when sarah had a boyfriend. even when she had a million people to turn to. she still picked y/n. y/n was the cameron family’s anchor.

he rolled onto his side, arm slung across his eyes, like that might block her out. but her voice echoed anyway. soft. patient. familiar in a way that made his stomach twist.

he realised why that picture with jj made him feel so emotional. he saw that same bright smile, years ago. when they were all getting food at the golf club. y/n turned to him. grinned. shoved her fries at him like it was no big deal and said, “here, try it, you’ll like it.”

he did. and that made her grin wider. he liked a lot of things he wasn’t supposed to like.

ward would lose his shit if he knew how deep it went. y/n was like another daughter to him. and the way rafe couldn’t stop thinking about her. how he watched her shift closer to the pogues and felt something splinter in his chest. god he'd be in so much trouble.

he should be focusing on business. on legacy. on the kind of man his father wanted him to be. but instead he was lying awake at 2am, clenching his fists at the thought of jj maybank making her laugh.

he hated that. hated that she made him feel anything.

but he couldn’t stop. not when she was still here, still taking care of people he didn’t know how to love the right way. she was the last good thing in this place. and god help him, he wasn’t ready to let her go.

but rafe always fucked things up, so instead he did what he knew best. he reached for his phone, his thumb hovered over y/n’s contact like it had muscle memory. like he might actually text her.

he didn’t.

instead, he scrolled. past her name and stopped on someone he hadn’t talked to in weeks. topper. they hadn’t talked since that whole situation.

but maybe that’s what he needed now. something cold. something to make him numb. he tapped out a text, stared at it:

“you around?”

simple. detached. noncommittal. just enough to pretend he was fine. sent it. he wasn’t even sure why. maybe if he could hang out with topper, get drunk, talk shit, flirt with some girl who wasn’t y/n, it’d fix it. blur the edges.

but the second the message delivered, regret hit him low in the gut. because topper didn’t know her like he did. topper didn’t see the way she stayed up late to help sarah with her essays. didn’t notice the way she kept snacks in her bag for wheezie’s blood sugar crashes. didn’t hear the way she said rafe’s name so soft and genuine, despite their bickering.

topper just saw another girl. another conquest. rafe saw the anchor.

fuck it. maybe he’d go out. maybe he’d start a fight. maybe he’d hook up with someone whose name he wouldn’t remember.

a/n: john b will forever be a simp <3

taglist!!: @princesspeaxhh , @cokewithcameron , @lolasangelz , @a-sunflower-in-bloom , @rafecameronswhoorehope , @stoned-writer , @pogueprincesa @countryclubwhore @pillowprincess4him HI NEW TAGS, HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS <3

Two best friends in a room they might…kiss?

Inspired by @eerielamb concept.

Imagine Rafe Cameron helps you take sexy pictures but things quickly heat up.

Smut, dirty talk, creampie!!

“Can you pay attention?” You scolded your best friend, Rafe who rolled his eyes. You asked him to take some pictures for you to post on your spicy account.